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Authors: C. I. Black

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BOOK: Shattered Spirits
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A man in the crowd said something, then turned away and a brunette with perfectly coiffed hair took his place. She shoved a microphone in front of Capri.

“Special Agent Jones, can you tell me why the FBI is here? There are law offices in this building. Are they connected to the recent murders?”

“The what?” Capri’s attention jumped to her.

The cameraman at her shoulder shifted. A red light on his camera blinked. He was filming this.

“Can you tell me what the FBI has discovered on the recent decapitations?” It was the woman from the Medical Examiner’s parking lot. The one who’d been talking to Miller.

“I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation.” The words spilled out on instinct.

“So the FBI is involved?”

Ah, shit. If that made it to the news, Tobias would discover she was investigating something she hadn’t been assigned. This was bad.

“And how is ex-Newgate Detective Ryan Miller involved?”

And bad just went to worse. Now she had no way of keeping Miller off Tobias’s radar. “I can’t discuss this. Excuse me.”

Capri shouldered the woman aside with a little more force than necessary. The woman bumped into her cameraman, knocking his camera and ruining his shot. Another group of officers broke through the crowd from the other end, and they opened the way up. Capri strode across the vast lobby to a wall of glass doors and rushed out onto the street, her head pounding and her thoughts whirling.

With two quick questions from some stupid woman, her life and Miller’s were in jeopardy. She might be able to convince Tobias that Miller was just some human she was using, but there was no way she could convince Tobias her looking into the decapitations was anything other than what it was: her disobeying protocol. She needed to come up with an explanation and a backup plan for when the shit hit the fan. She had until the six o’clock news if her luck sucked, and the eleven o’clock news if her luck held. And that was all the luck she was going to get.

 

CHAPTER 18

 

Capri strode into the Clean Team’s conference room, her head still pounding. She’d contemplated changing first but her winter coat had protected her from the worst of the sprinkler’s water and she really just wanted to get the impending fight over and done with—and Swipe was guaranteed to want a fight.

“Took you long enough,” Swipe growled. He didn’t even look up from whatever he was reading.

“What happened?” Gig asked, his eyes wide.

Maybe she should have at least glanced in a mirror. “Nothing. What have we got?”

“A fingerprint off the cell phone.” Swipe glanced at her, and his scowl deepened.

Gig flicked a finger, summoning his earth magic, and turned on the big screen on the back wall. He pulled up the print and mug shot of a dark-haired, dark-eyed twenty-something man in desperate need of a shave and a haircut—in the very least, a comb.

“It belongs to Eddie Boyd. Real catch, this one. In and out of prison, mostly for small stuff. Obviously not bright enough to learn his lesson or to figure out how not to get caught.” Swipe’s tone darkened at the end, as if there was a double meaning to his words, but Capri’s head hurt too much for her to even try to figure it out.

It seemed too much of an effort to engage in a fight, no matter how much she usually enjoyed them. What the hell was wrong with her? “Does he fit the profile for Zenobia’s choice of mage stock?”

The screen changed and Gig sat forward. “Yep. It doesn’t look as if there’s anyone who’d miss him.”

“Not even a parole officer?” Capri pressed her palms to her temples and fought to focus on the screen.

“Apparently he’s between sentences,” Swipe said. “It also doesn’t look like the phone was Boyd’s. His prints aren’t on the buttons, only the outside, and there are other prints on top.”

“So he handed the phone to someone.” Capri was sure there was something important about that, and as soon as her head stopped hurting, she’d figure it out.

“I think this other number, saved in call history, belongs to Boyd.” Gig flicked his finger again and a list of phone numbers—no, not numbers, just one number, filled the screen.

“Regardless of whether this number belongs to Boyd, whoever had this phone called that number a lot,” Capri said.

“Notice the most frequent days,” Swipe said.

The call history stopped yesterday. But there’d been almost a dozen calls that day between 9 a.m. and 10 a.m.

A chill raced over Capri. That couldn’t be right. “When did Diablo find that hideout?”

“Around 10 a.m. But I suspect he got the lead and informed the Dugga and who-knows-who-else around 9 a.m.” This time Swipe’s dark tone was clear.

“Someone in the Asar Nergal is warning the mages.” She hated to say it, but she’d bet if she checked the other call clusters they’d coincide with whenever Diablo went hunting.

“It would explain why Diablo can’t seem to do his job,” Swipe said.

“But the Asar Nergal wouldn’t—They’ve sworn—” Gig turned too-big eyes on her. “That would mean—I don’t even know what that would mean.”

“It means the Dugga is going to need to clean house.” And Capri wanted to be as far away from that as possible. She had no idea who the Dugga was—that was a secret only Regis and Tobias knew—but warning the mages was as treasonous as making them. Someone, possibly many someones, would be spending time with Odyne.

Capri rubbed her temples again. Keep her distance and her head down—and pray Tobias didn’t watch the news that night—and everything would be okay.

If there was a traitor in the Asar Nergal, her team needed to find the mages and call in Diablo at the last possible moment.

“All right.” She straightened. “See if you can get a location on that other phone number. We need to take charge of this mess.”

“Got it,” Gig said.

Swipe leveled a hard look on him. “And go do that somewhere else.”

Gig swallowed and glanced at Capri. She nodded and he fled.

“Are we really going to do this now?” Normally it was fun to argue with Swipe, but her head hurt so damned much.

“What’s wrong with you? You should be glowing at the prospect of an argument with me.”

“It’s been a difficult morning.”

“You’re not yourself.”

She met his gaze. “You just asked me if I was all right. You’re not yourself, either.”

“Actually, I asked what was wrong with you. Completely different than caring about your welfare.”

She snorted, sending a spike of pain stabbing through her head. “Yeah, totally different.”

Swipe flashed her a hint of teeth in challenge. “Just get it back together. Now is not the time to piss off anyone in Court.”

“Particularly a mentally unstable Prince.”

“I wouldn’t say that too loud in public,” Swipe said. “Actually, I wouldn’t say that in public at all.”

“Only among my closest friends.” And even in private, suggesting that Regis was unstable, like his father, was dangerous. You never knew who might be listening.

“We are not friends.” Swipe scowled at her.

Yeah, right. And she was a baby gold drake in disguise. But she wasn’t going to push it. They weren’t friends like she and Hiro, they were co-workers, but she was pretty sure Swipe would have her back if push came to shove… although not if the person shoving was Tobias or Regis.

She sighed—even that made her head hurt—and stood. “Tell Tobias our suspicions about a leak in the Asar Nergal.”

Swipe’s eyes narrowed even more. “Isn’t reporting to Tobias your job?”

It was, but she needed to get back to Miller and two decapitated bodies before Tobias locked her up for breaking just about every rule dragon-kind had. “I need to follow up on… on that human. Make sure my earth magic is holding.”

“Why don’t I believe you.” He rolled his eyes at her and strode out of the conference room.

Capri pressed her palms to her temples again and squeezed her eyes shut. She just needed a moment. The urge to sit and put her head on the table teased her. But if she did, she wouldn’t get up again, and she was running out of time. Who was decapitating people? And who was the leak in the Asar Nergal?

Someone cleared his throat behind her. For a heartbeat she imagined it was Miller and heat swept through her.

“Got a minute?” Gig asked.

Not Miller—not that he could ever be in the Clean Team’s base, but she was still disappointed. “Were you standing in the hall the whole time?”

Gig leaned in the doorway, but didn’t look at ease. “Maybe.”

Which meant, of course he had been. He’d heard whatever he’d heard and she’d deal with any fallout later. “What do you want?”

“I looked into that guy you wanted me to, and there’s nothing unusual save that his place of employment is funded by one of Nero’s corporations.”

So nothing she hadn’t already known.

“His life is pretty average for a human,” Gig said.

“So why was he targeted with Kardas?” It just didn’t make sense. There had to be a connection.

“Kardas? As in the drake who was killed?” Gig asked. “Isn’t looking into that Cooper’s job?”

“It is. I just don’t want us caught off guard.”

Gig straightened. “But if you’re caught poking into Cooper’s work, Regis could get pissed.”

“That’s why you have no idea why I asked you to look into this guy.”

Confusion flooded his boyish features. “But I do know, sort of.”

“No,” she said, willing him to understand. “You don’t.”

“Oh? Ooooohhhh. Right.” He winked. “I don’t know. But my curiosity has gotten the better of me and I think I’ll do more digging on this guy.”

Capri offered him a smile. “Thanks.”

“You bet.” He grinned back at her and left.

Here was hoping if the shit hit the fan, Tobias would think Gig was too naive to really know what he was doing.

Here was hoping the shit
didn’t
hit the fan. If she was smart, she’d stop poking her snout where it didn’t belong. But being caught unaware and looking incompetent was just as bad. There were just so many messes and she had no idea how to control it all.

She blew out a quick breath. First things first. Miller.

Desire burned within her.

Jeez. Not Miller. Her investigation into the decapitations.

She pulled out her phone to call him.

An investigation that just so happened to require her to be close to Miller.

That was so very very good, and so terribly terribly bad.

 

CHAPTER 19

 

Tobias stared at the stone dragons carved into the pillars in the rebirth chamber. The beasts, riddled with cracks and missing chunks, bared teeth as long as his forearm and spread massive wings.

He reached out his arms, willing, praying, for the earth magic of metamorphosis like Hunter, to turn into a dragon. Mother, please. From the moment he’d fallen from the sky and was shoved into this frail, minuscule body, he’d wanted his dragon form back.

Just for a moment. A second. A heartbeat.

He needed to feel the sun warming his scales and the wind caressing his snout. He needed to feel powerful, not helpless.

He roared and slammed his fists against the Handmaiden’s altar. He was tired of being weak. He’d been tired of it since the 1500s when he’d taken to the sea to fight and steal and just be. Sailing had been the closest he could get back then to flying. But the sea had proven it wasn’t the same and wouldn’t reach that desperate, broken place in his soul.

He drew back to pound the altar again.

“You know she won’t like it if you ruin the place,” a sultry voice said.

Tobias searched the shadows for the owner. “I don’t think she’ll notice one more crack.” The rebirth chamber was already in ruins from the attack on the Handmaiden two weeks ago.

“You really want to bet on that?” A shadow separated from the shadows by one of the pillars, and Ophelia—head of Internal Inspection—eased into sight.

“No.” But maybe if he broke something she’d come back and talk to him. Except she hadn’t even told him she was leaving. What made him think she’d come back for him? He’d thought, after all the time they’d spent together, she would have said something. He’d thought she’d cared and thought—

Apparently thought things about them that weren’t true. He was just another drake, like her sworn servant, Grey. That was all.

“She’s not back yet?” Ophelia crossed her arms. She wore her usual black pantsuit. It blended with her dark skin, helping her to hide in the shadows. Six hundred years ago she’d been Constantine’s Spymaster. Now, she was still spymaster, just the title had changed.

“No. And you haven’t
heard
anything about it?”

Ophelia raised an eyebrow. Only a select few knew about her earth magic ability to hear thoughts—and only Tobias and Regis knew she was the spymaster.

A thread of jealousy cut through Tobias. She had magic. She wasn’t completely helpless in her human form like he was. His human hadn’t given him anything but suffering. He had no earth magic at all. He couldn’t call wind, and didn’t possess increased strength. He couldn’t use a gate even if the gate was anchored. Not that he was going to let anyone know. Only Ophelia did, since she’d read his thoughts years ago.

“You really have to learn to let that go.” Her tone softened. “You are the most powerful drake in Court.”

“But if someone challenged me for my position—”

She barked a throaty laugh. “No one wants your paper, Tobias. No one is going to challenge you to combat for the position of Chamberlain.”

“Unless Regis puts them up to it.”

Ophelia’s expression darkened. “I wouldn’t put that past him. Last time I was near him, his thoughts were practically salad.”

Tobias went cold. “Are you sure?”

“Completely tossed, just like his father. The jumble didn’t last long, but—” She shrugged.

“We need a contingency plan.” If Regis was becoming soul sick like his father, Tobias needed to set the wheels in motion for new dragon leadership. They couldn’t be without a clear successor to the throne.

“You need to be careful of Regis. If he even suspects you of betraying him, he’ll send you to Odyne.”

If his Prince didn’t outright kill Tobias and send his soul into the ether. “How long have we got?” Maybe there’d be enough time for the Handmaiden to return—from wherever she was—and rebirth King Constantine. The King would lose all his memories, his soul would reset back to its primary state—that he was a gold drake—but the soul sickness would be gone.

BOOK: Shattered Spirits
13.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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